


Take a Look and Then You'll See

by stiley



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Masturbation, Night Clubs, derek regrets his life choices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-09 01:16:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4328241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stiley/pseuds/stiley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You should go dance with him,” Erica’s a warm weight against his back and she teases, “I know you want to.”</p><p>“I don’t.”</p><p>“Well, he’d want you to.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take a Look and Then You'll See

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a chapter for "The Worst Place" but it got away from me.

There’s a siren this time and of course, she has to pick up her victims in Derek’s least favorite place of all time.

He’s not excited to go back into another club, not after the whole kanima thing, but someone has to make sure the siren doesn’t take another life.

She’s been going around town taking victim after victim and leaving the bodies in the middle of town. They’re always stripped and covered in blood and claw marks. It looks like someone sucked all of the blood from their bodies because they’re significantly paler than they should be, even after death.

They’ve got to do something about it because Argent’s out of town and nobody else knows how to take down a siren.

He tenses up the second he steps in and Stiles rests a hand on his shoulder, murmurs, “It’ll be fine,” And it actually sounds like the truth.

It’s nearly been an hour and he hasn’t seen the siren even once yet, but he knows she’ll show up. She has three times this week and she’s leaving a trail of bodies in her wake.

Scott’s across the room, Allison pressed to his front, Boyd and Isaac are at a table with a couple drinks with Derek and Erica’s grinding back against Stiles. It actually looks like he’s enjoying it, by the way he swings his hips in tandem with hers.

He has his hands on her hips until she rests her hands on top of his, moves his hands with hers across her stomach and beneath her shirt. He’s pressed tightly against, drenched in sweat but they don’t look like they care.

He’s whispering something in her ear and if Derek listened in, he could hear them clear as day but he can’t. He doesn’t need to know.

Erica’s grinning now, predatory and turning to lean up and she coaxes him into a slow kiss, her arms wrapped back around his neck and when she pulls away, he’s more flushed than before.

“Dude,” Isaac raises his eyebrows, “You’re staring again.”

Boyd’s staring the same way, but he’s looking at Erica instead like he’s dying to pull her away from Stiles. Derek almost wants him to.

“I’m not.”

Boyd looks to Derek, says, “Yeah you are,” And goes back to watching Erica.

Derek can almost smell the arousal; it probably reeks and he turns up his nose, looking away. He needs to look anywhere but there; it’s bad for him, he knows that.

“You okay?”

The waitress sets a drink down in front of him and he downs it right away, wishing he could get drunk for once. He could, if he had some of that old wolfsbane alcohol that Peter used to keep around the house back in the day.

“Fine,” He shouts back over the music.

He should dance with someone. It would keep his mind off Stiles and the way his ass felt against Derek’s front. He needs to stop thinking about it.

Except he can’t, can’t stop thinking about how it would feel with less clothes, or how it would feel to have his cock against the cleft of Stiles’ asscheeks, brushing against his hole.

It’s so bad; he knows that, because Stiles would never feel the same anyway. He’s still madly in love with Lydia Martin anyway, never stops talking about her and Lydia’s probably close enough to him now that she would say yes if he asked her out.

“I get off shift in 20 minutes, if you-“ She starts to offer, but he cuts her off mid-sentence.

“No thanks.” He shuts her down.

“You sure?”

She still slips him her number, anyway.

He thinks about it, what it would be like to call her, because it would probably work out. She has short black hair, blue eyes and freckles and looks absolutely nothing like Stiles. She has skin that kind of reminds him of chocolate and probably could get any guy.

When he looks back, Erica’s heading back to the table, leaving Stiles to dance alone in the middle of the dance floor. He doesn’t look upset with her leaving; he looks content by himself.

He’s keeping his eyes peeled; the siren has to show up soon, so he can’t get distracted. Not now.

“You should go dance with him,” Erica’s a warm weight against his back and she teases, “I know you want to.”

“I don’t.”

“Well, he’d want you to.”

It’s a good thing Stiles can’t hear his heartbeat because it’s racing in his chest. She grins at him because she can tell he’s lying through his teeth.

He really does want nothing more to go out there, but he should really be on the lookout. It’s irresponsible for the alpha to be distracted in a situation like this, he knows that for sure.

He’s about to protest when she whispers, “Besides, with a body like that, she’ll probably turn up if you’re out there,” And pushes him into the crowd.

It doesn’t take him long to find Stiles, what with his flailing limbs and all. He’s surprisingly graceful, though, with the way he moves his body to the beat. He looks tantalizing and he obviously doesn’t know the power he holds over Derek.

Stiles pulls Derek in the second he seems him and Derek finally breathes in, taking in the scent that’s purely Stiles. It wraps around him, holds him and he wants to just roll around in it. He wants it in his sheets, in his pillows, in his clothes.

Stiles wore Derek’s jacket once and after he gave it back, Derek spent at least an hour pressing it to his face, breathing in the calming smell.

“Come here,” He murmurs, knowing Derek can hear him clear as a bell and he doesn’t waste time moving in close to Derek.

His face is inches from Derek’s, and if he moved closer, Derek could even kiss him.

“Who knew you could dance?”

Stiles pulls him from his reverie and his nose brushes against Derek’s and maybe he’s imagining it, but Stiles tilts his head a little bit.

“I’ve danced before, you’ve seen it.”

“Nah, not like this,” He says as Derek’s crotch brushes against his own.

It sends a spark of heat down low into Derek’s belly and he just wants to reach his hand down to cup Stiles’s cock in his hand. It’d be so easy to just unzip Stiles’s jeans and get him off, right there.

It’s not like anyone’s watching anyway; everyone’s focused on someone else. Isaac’s staring off in the crowd at something else, like he’s contemplating dancing with someone for once.

Erica’s on the dancefloor again, this time with Boyd and she’s grinding her body against his, shimmying her hips with the beat.

Stiles undulates his hips, his cock brushing against Derek’s through their clothes and Derek’s never wanted anything more than he wants Stiles right now.

His cock’s hard against Stiles’s hip, but he hasn’t noticed yet, just keeps dancing with the beat, dragging Derek along with him.

It’s been a while since he’s actually danced in a club. In New York, Laura used to drag him out all the time but he spent most of the time at a table, drinking and making sure no guys took advantage of her. (Not like they could, Laura could rip their hearts out with her claws any day.)

Stiles cock hardens too, against Derek’s and he just wants to buck against him, get off then and there.

“This is nice,” Stiles mumbles.

He has his face against Derek’s neck now and his hot breath sends shivers down Derek’s spine, “You and me.”

“Really?”

He hums out a “Yes,” And Derek just wants to kiss him.

Derek’s about to do just that when Stiles moves to look at him, but he focuses on something over Derek’s shoulder and he grumbles something about why now, why do mythical creatures have to destroy every moment ever when Derek realizes what he’s staring at.

He turns, just enough to see a woman with bright crimson hair grin at them, her mouth full of sharp teeth and eyes like charcoal. It’s the siren and she has another victim, a tall blonde guy, in her clutches.

She drags him out of the club and Derek’s regretting his life choices when he pulls away from Stiles, shouts, “Get everyone outside,” before he runs out the door.

The betas follow soon after, nearly on his heels as he grabs the siren. Stiles drags the victim to safety while Derek takes down the siren.

It doesn’t take long for Derek and the betas to kill her; Deaton had given them a spelled dagger guaranteed to kill anything, so it only took one stab for her to go down.

Boyd and Isaac are on body burning duty this time, so Derek and the rest head back to the loft. Scott orders pizza while Allison and Erica take up the whole couch.

Derek heads upstairs for a shower; he reeks of fish and blood.

The water feels nice on his skin, dripping down his face and body and he watches it swirl down the drain, starting red and slowly turning clear again. It would’ve been nice to have Stiles follow him in and sneak into the shower after him.

He’s hard again and he grasps his length, sliding his hand down his thick shaft. He can hear Stiles downstairs, laughing at something Scott said and he feels that heat again, in his belly. He fantasizes about Stiles laughing, but at something Derek said instead.

It would feel so much better if it was Stiles’s hand instead, and he shuts his eyes, bucking his hips up into his hand.

He thinks of how Stiles would look, sprawled out in his bed, looking up at him with hooded eyes as Derek straddles his waist, his hard cock sliding slowly in and out of Derek’s ass.

Stiles moans, his fist in his mouth as Derek rides his cock, slick with lube and then he’s coming deep inside Derek.

It doesn’t take long until Derek’s coming himself, biting down on his lip to keep from crying out. The water washes his come away and he gets out of the shower, skin flushed.

He comes downstairs in a tight t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, and thinks he might be imagining the blush on Stiles’s cheeks.  

Scott must’ve said something right before he got all the way down the stairs, but he wasn’t listening, still thinking about the ways Stiles’s body felt against his.

“Pizza’s here!” Scott announces.

Boyd and Isaac show up later on, fully showered and in a change of clothes. Isaac’s look a little big on him, so he must’ve borrowed Boyd’s so he didn’t have to drive around town covered in soot and blood.

“So,” Stiles starts, hours later after everything winds down and everyone else has gone home, “That was fun, I guess.” Derek raises his eyebrows and he’s quick to say, “The dancing, I mean! Not the killing. Killing is never fun, you know?”

Derek just grunts, kicking his feet up onto the table and Stiles has that blush on his cheeks again. He looks good, flushed like that.

“It wasn’t bad, you know? You and me, dancing. Us, out on the dance floor. It was nice.”

Derek looks at him, finally, when Stiles stops mumbling and his blush has deepened by now and it’s only now that Derek notices how fast Stiles’s heart is racing.

“I’m just gonna come out and say it and then you can kick me out, okay? Because you’re probably going to want to. I like you. There.” He’s getting up, heading towards the door and Derek’s quick to follow after him, “Leaving now,” He says and Derek grabs his wrist. “What the-“

“Don’t leave.”

When Derek kisses him, Stiles grins against his lips and Derek finally realizes how right it feels.

“You want me to say,” He says as Derek pulls away, “Like, stay here stay?” He gestures to the room, “Or stay here.” He points to where Derek’s arms are wrapped around him.

“Both.”

“Both are good. Both are definitely good.”

He stays the night, and Scott doesn’t even say anything when he shows up the next morning and Stiles reeks of Derek.

It’s nice.

 

 


End file.
